


Things that go Bump in the Night

by Bogs_Bones_and_Chesspieces



Series: Hunted au [1]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: (no it doesn't im sorry), But what?, CHECK NOTES FOR WARNINGS!!!!!, F/F, F/M, M/M, Read to find out lmao, Something is hunting the moomins, but not just them, characters and ships will be added as we go, everyone is terrified for their lives and with good reason, i'm eyeing sniff, it's mostly Little My who's swearing, jk i love you sniff (no i don't), maybe some major character death, no beta we die like men, no seriously guys where is he, not for sniff tho, some characters may die, somethin happened to him..., sorry in advance, there are rules to abide by to survive, there will be some death, this fandom needs more angst, warning - i'm a heartless monster, warning folks - this'll get darker as we go along, where the fuck is Snufkin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2020-04-07 13:12:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19085740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bogs_Bones_and_Chesspieces/pseuds/Bogs_Bones_and_Chesspieces
Summary: There are 10 Rules.1) Stay within the light of your campfire.2) Move on.3) Never be without a weapon.4) There is safety in numbers.5) Stay alert, no matter the company.6) Do not follow the distant firelight. It's a trap.7) If the area grows cold when it shouldn't be, don't ignore it.8) Never lose sight of each other. But If someone disappears, don't go looking.9) Follow the lamplight. He'll guide you to safety.10) Find the Ring. It is your only refuge





	1. Prologue

They were leaving.

They were packing their things and they were fleeing the valley.

He knew why.

His parents tried to hide it, but he had noticed the distant howling.

The bone-rattling chill despite it being midsummer.

He had protested, at first, when Mama told him to pack his essentials - quickly - and leave the house. He had asked why, and had gotten no reply. But he knew, deep down. He could feel it.

Their home wasn’t safe anymore.

He quickly wrote a letter to his dearest friend, Snufkin, just in case he came back. It was unlikely. It had been so long...No, perhaps he would return, find this letter, and find the Moomins.

He hoped so. He desperately hoped so.

The letter was ruined, however, when his mother rushed in and pulled him from his chair by the arm, knocked over the ink and spilled it over the letter, obscuring every word. Every word except the name at the beginning, the end, and a few words in between.

She nearly dragged him outside, urging him to hurry with a fearful edge to her voice he had never heard before. He hadn’t had to ask why. He could hear the howls, closer than ever. The others were waiting by the treeline, waving them on desperately. They did a single once-over to make sure everyone was okay, and then they were moving. They ran fast with no words - the only sound was heavy breathing, their paws striking the earth, and distant crashing and screaming as those... _Things_ raided their home.

He didn’t look back.

None of them did.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What a lovely camping trip :]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter was overwhelmingly short, whoops. But hey, it got the basic point across, as it was basically a Prologue to set the idea of the story.  
> This chapter is longer. My writing style, depending on where the chapter goes, can have anywhere from 1,000 words to 16,000 (yes i actually did once write a sixteen-thousand word chapter). Its a creative lottery.  
> I honestly didn't expect comments on the first chapter, but the four that i recieved made me extremely happy! I'm glad the right vibe and tone came across.  
> Oh, and by the way - if you didn't gather this from the prologue - if you're looking for fluff, this is not the place.  
> Enjoy, and please let me know what you think! Any input is very welcome.

  
A lone campfire danced between the trees. A small circle of land - safety - was the only thing illuminated. Not even an open flame could permeate the jelly-like darkness surrounding the camp. Not a critter stirred. There were no reflections of night eyes, no creature calls, no branches rustling in a breeze, nothing. The forest was silent.

  
Five figures stayed within the circle. They were the only signs that life still existed. Mama and Pappa watched the black wall - “too close”, they murmured to each other - for any movement. Pappa’s rifle glinted. It hadn’t left his paws in days.

  
Moomin stared into the flames blankly, exhausted after yet another long day of trekking. How long had it been since they abandoned Moominhouse? Long enough that he had forgotten to count the days. His paws and legs ached, as did his back. None of them knew how much longer they’d have to walk for. Moomin was starting the suspect it’d be forever. None of them voiced their complaints, though. It was stop and be killed, or walk on and live. Personally, Moomin preferred life.

  
He thought about the other day when he had stopped to feed a squirrel some nuts he found. Hopefully it was doing well...Sniff huffed where he leaned against Moomin’s side, fiddling with a rock. The noise made all of them flinch. Except for Snorkmaiden, of course, who was sound asleep on his other side. Even brave Little My twitched.

  
They were all on edge. This was one of those nights. Luckily, most of the time nights were spent talking around the fire, sharing stories or listening to Pappa’s memoirs. Sometimes they even played little games, often with cards. But every so often the darkness grew thicker around them. It seemed to muffle all light and sound it came in contact with. They could all sense it. The _Things_ were nearby. It was why none of them felt like sleeping, and why his parents sat nearby, weapons in paw. Every so often Pappa’s tail would flick. They hadn’t looked away from the darkness since the sun had gone down. Thank the stars they had eaten before sunset. He couldn't imagine eating now.

  
Any other night Moomin would desperately try to fill the silence. His thoughts wandered when it was quiet, and they never wandered to good places. Except for...Moomin shook his head. No, think of someone-some _thing_ else. Like the day they had theorized on what the creatures were as they walked, a week or so after starting their journey.

-

-

 

_“What do you mean, you don’t know what they are?” Little My snapped. “Don’t you always boast that you know of everything under the sun?”_

 

_“W-Well,” Moominpappa sputtered, “These beasts are clearly not from under the sun, now are they.”_

  
_Little My rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, your book had nothing to say about them, either.”_

  
_“I’m afraid not.”_

  
_“What if they’re just rabid wolves?” Snorkmaiden said._

  
_“No wolf makes a sound like that,” Moominmama answered. “These are creatures unlike any we know.”_

  
_All was silent for a moment, except for Sniff, who was noisily stuffing his snout with berries. Moomin heard Little My whisper that she was going to sneak nightshade into his pawful._

  
_“Then what are they?” Moomin asked, breaking the unbearable silence._

  
_“I’ve been thinking about that,” Pappa said, “and I figure that they’re an ancient predator that only our ancestors knew about. Why the beasts have reappeared now, I have no explanation.”_

  
_“Well, if our ancestors survived these things, so can we.”_

 

_"Indeed! We are mighty moomins, and no ancient beast shall best us!" He adjusted his hat proudly. "They can't be all that powerful. The darn things stay away from a campfire, after all."_

 

_Moominmama nodded. “You’re absolutely right, dear.”_

 

_“Yes, well of course I am,” Pappa preened. “I’m a well-learned moomin.”_

 

_“You’re also an ass,” Little My muttered, earning giggles from Snorkmaiden and Moomin._

 

Snorkmaiden muttered in her sleep, shaking him from his thoughts. He sighed and pulled the blanket over her shoulders. The furrow in her brow lessened. She must’ve been having a nightmare. Of course, that had become the normal type of dream for them all. A life of running from killer shadows did not promote fluffy clouds and bunnies. Certainly not.

  
Little My poked at the fire with a stick. A log shifted and fell, causing a burst of embers. The corner of her mouth twitched. Moomin rested his head on his drawn-up knees and heaved a sigh, watching her play with the ash. She poked at it a few more times, then raised her eyebrow at him. He twitched an ear and tilted his head. She stared a bit longer before shrugging and returning her attention to the fire.

  
The atmosphere changed.

  
The fur on the back of Moomin’s neck bristled.

  
The temperature dropped several degrees.

  
At once, Pappa gripped his rifle tighter with a _clack_ and rose to his feet slowly, peering into the darkness, gun to his shoulder. On the other side, Mama did the same. Little My darted around the fire to sit next to the sleeping Snorkmaiden. Moomin put his arms over Snorkmaiden and Sniff (who burrowed into his side and clung to him) protectively.

His ears swiveled to face every sound.

  
All was deathly quiet. They could feel it. The darkness betrayed no movement, but the _Thing_ was right outside their range of vision.

  
Moomin breathed so quietly it was as if he drew no breath at all.

  
Minutes passed in this silent standoff.

  
He could feel eyes on them. He could feel it move around them, like a shark.

  
As soon as it began, the heavy blanket lifted, and Moomin felt like he could breathe again. Pappa straightened and lowered the rifle with a sigh, and glanced over his shoulder at the children.

  
“It's quite alright,” he said, “nothing to worry about.” He settled back down.

  
_Liar_ , thought Moomin, but he nodded anyway. Mama draped another blanket over him and Sniff.

  
“You all should get some sleep.” She ruffled Moomin’s fur. “We’ve another long day ahead of us.”

  
None of them could protest. As thick as the fear was, the pull of sleep was heavier. Moomin lay down on his sleeping mat next to Snormaiden. Sniff managed to squeeze his way between them, somehow sharing both blankets. Moomin wasn’t surprised when Little My wiggled her way under his blanket and pulled his arm from his chest to lay on the floor, then used it as a pillow.

  
“You should rest too, my dear,” Pappa whispered.

  
Mama chuckled. “I’ve had plenty of rest. _I’ll_ take first watch.”

  
This went on for several minutes as Moomin pretended to be asleep. Finally, with minimal grumbling, Pappa relented and lay down on the opposite side of the fire. Mama took his place.

  
When everyone’s breathing evened out, Moomin opened his eyes, just for a few moments before he joined them in slumber.

  
He gazed up at the night sky, searching for some kind of comfort.

  
There were no stars.

  
Just embers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) Stay within the light of your campfire


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of fluff before it gets rough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have been reading since the first chapter came out, you might want to re-read the story summary.  
> This story is going to be broken up into Arcs. This is the first Arc, and there's going to be a chapter for each "Rule" at the beginning.  
> Warning: It may change again as we go along
> 
> also - I don't have a beta for this story and I don't really go over it after I write it, so if it's a little rough in places, sorry

“Up, Moomin, it’s time to go.”

Moomintroll slowly opened his eyes. Dull morning light filtered in through the trees from a pale blue sky, a sure sign that the much anticipated morning had arrived.

They had survived one more night, and that was enough.

He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, still exhausted. He sat up and blinked at Moominpappa, who was covering the fire pit with sand, then at the others, who were nearly done getting their packs ready.

He hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep. At least it was a night of no dreams. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier,” he grumbled, irritated that he hadn’t been able to assist.

Mama ruffled his fur and said, “You needed it, dear,” then handed him a plate of cold scrambled eggs. Not questioning what type of egg or where they came from, he scarfed them down, then retrieved his pack (not without loudly protesting that _I can pack my own stuff, I’m not a child_ ).

Once everyone had packs on their backs, Moominpappa herded them into their usual line with excessive badgering, as per usual. The line went as so: Moominmama, Sniff, Snorkmaiden, Little My, Moomin, then Moominpappa. After a final check that nothing had been left behind, Pappa shouted, “Forward march!” and they were off.

Immediately Little My started pestering, well, everyone. Moomin tuned her out as soon as she said, “Do you all want to know where I found those eggs? Well…”

He had gotten quite good at doing that. After spending such a long time with her - five years now, was it? - the skill was essential _and_ effortless. Instead, he took in their surroundings. They had definitely entered a new part of the forest, and he was not the biggest fan. There was barely any ground foliage, save for some prickly looking bushes and straw-like weeds. The trees were tall, and their high branches held only browning pine needles. The ground was all dust, dirt, and rocks, too. It was horrible. Every so often, Moomin would step on one such rock, and would spend the next five minutes limping. He glanced behind them at their campsite, ignoring how Pappa’s face was a little green (later he would find out that My was regaling the story of how she found a nest of snake eggs). The fire pit was barely visible anymore. As he turned to once again look ahead, his gaze caught on a tree, only a small ways away from the site.

Its bark was marred by giant slashes, revealing the paler wood within. Moomin’s mouth grew very dry. More glances told him that three other trees were slashed, making a perimeter around the camp.

Death Markers.

Moomin shuddered, suddenly very glad they weren’t staying another night.

-

“It’s so _hot_ ,” Sniff whined for the millionth time.

“We _know_ ,” Little My growled, also for the millionth time. Snorkmaiden heaved a sigh.

It was hot. It was blisteringly, searingly hot, to the point where breathing was more of a task than it should be. The already brown foliage was getting even crispier, if that was even possible. Even the air was shimmering.

Moomin was fairly certain he was dying. His summer coat was still too thick for this heat. He briefly wondered if he could shave it all off. Maybe that would bring some relief.

“We need to take a break,” Mama finally said, earning her four very relieved, very thankful sighs.

“Yes…” Pappa squinted at the old map he was holding. “Just a bit farther.” That earned him four incinerating glares and one hiss from Little My.

“Perhaps we should stop here.”

“That would be silly - there’s a waterfall not too far ahead!”

Snorkmaiden clasped her paws. “A waterfall? Really?”

Pappa nodded. “Indeed. Back in my adventuring days, my friends and I stopped by here to find relief from heat much like this!” He turned the map to show them a circle in faded ink with a note that read swimming hole.

Sniff whooped for joy as Moomin and Little My exchanged an excited smile. Reinvigorated, Moomin said, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

They nearly shoved Mama and Pappa along the path, grinning and chattering about swimming again.

“It’ll be so much fun!”

“We haven’t had proper fun in ages.”

“Come now, we have fun.”

“Tossing a pinecone around does not qualify as fun. Tossing Sniff around, however…”

“Heeyyy-!”

-

The waterfall that was quote-unquote, “not too far ahead” was actually about two miles farther, mostly uphill. The talking died down quickly as fatigue showed itself yet again, and they practically had to drag themselves along the last stretch. Sniff cried three times.

“We’re nearly there,” Pappa huffed.

“I don’t hear anything,” Little My said.

“Me neither,” Moomin agreed, but just then he heard the faint sound of rushing water. “Wait - there it is! I can hear it!” The scent of fresh, cool water accompanied the noise. It was more refreshing than he could imagine.

“I still can’t hear it,” Sniff whined.

Little My pulled on his tail. “You have bad hearing for someone with such big ears,” she said. Sniff massaged his tail and gave her the nastiest glare he could muster. Which, frankly, wouldn’t scare a mouse.

Snorkmaiden grinned. “I can hear it too!” She bounced a little and tapped Moomin’s arm excitedly. “Let’s go, let’s go!” Moomin giggled and rushed ahead, the others hot on his tail. Steadily, the trees became greener, and lush bushes were more common. The din was growing louder, as was the scent of water. Moomin couldn’t hold back a smile as he ran faster, eager to forget his worries in rare fun. The trees ended at a tiny slope, the sand cooled by the tree’s shade, then the ground leveled out until it dropped off sharply. A few feet down there was crystal clear water. Water gushed from rocks high above on the other side, pouring into the pool and sending ripples out in every direction. Dappled shade covered nearly every surface. Birds were singing in the green branches, fish were chasing each other in the depths, and squirrels were dancing in the undergrowth. It was a tiny oasis.

Snorkmaiden cheered as Moomin leapt off of the ledge and into the water. It enveloped him with brisk arms, and he let himself sink into it. He opened his eyes and almost gasped at the sunbeams shining through the deep. Aquatic plants waved in the light current. Fish of all colors glinted between the sand-polished rocks. A muffled fwoosh alerted him of Snorkmaiden, who arrived in a curtain of bubbles. She waved them away and gaped at the view, then grinned at Moomin, who returned it. Remembering that breathing was a thing, he powered to the surface and broke it with a holler. The holler turned into a gargle when Snormaiden surfaced right next to him, accidentally shoving his face in the water.

“Oops - sorry,” she giggled, righting him.

He snorted water and smirked at her. “You will be - _YARGH_!” He charged and dunked her under.

She came up sputtering and grinning. “You’ll pay for that, Moomintroll!” She swept a wave of water at him and he yelped, throwing up his arms. The fish must have been quite alarmed by the sudden churning of water above them as two friends splashed and dunked each other, kicking and squealing.

The biggest splash of all was accompanied by a screech as Sniff belly-flopped in, causing a wave to wash over Snorkmaiden and Moomin. Little My cackled from her spot on the ledge. You see, Sniff had been dawdling on the ledge, a bit too scared to jump in himself, so kind, helpful Little My decided to push him in herself.

“That was mean!” Sniff wailed, floundering on the surface.

“Oh please, I did you a favor,” Little My replied, and leapt over the edge. The three in the water squawked as they lurched away from her point of landing. She used Sniff’s face to hold herself above the water, completely ignoring how Sniff was struggling to keep his snout above water and how he was thrashing. “We should play a game,” she said.

“What kind of game?” asked Snorkmaiden.

“I was hoping you dollops could come up with something.”

As they thought, Mama and Pappa settled down on the ledge above them to watch with amusement. Moomin tapped his nose. “Hmm...it’s too deep for a chicken fight…how about Hawks and Rabbits?”

Little My’s mouth twisted into a devilish smirk. “I call Hawk. I’ll give you all twenty seconds to run.” Muffled giggles erupted as Sniff, Snorkmaiden, and Moomin rushed off to distance themselves from Little My. Snorkmaiden and Sniff went for the boulders at the shallow end while Moomin swam towards the waterfall. The roaring was almost deafening this close, but he tried his best to ignore it for the advantage of a great hiding spot. He squeezed in behind it. Luckily there was a ledge just under the water that Moomin could comfortably sit on with most of his body still above the surface.

He smiled to himself. What fun they were having! Moomin was sure he hadn’t smiled or laughed this much in quite a while. It almost felt like a normal summer, and if Moomin tried hard enough he could almost trick himself into believing it was.

The past few weeks had been harder than they should have. They had covered a lot of ground between Moominvalley and where they were now, and if the growing heat was any indication, they were heading farther south. But the nights had been harsh, with barely a moment’s rest. Moomin was almost constantly on edge. Even during the day, something as small as a branch snapping would send his heart racing. His dreams were even worse. More often than not he’d wake up crying or screaming, but then again that was the case with all of them. There was a silent agreement not to bring it up. Still...the shadows had been growing darker with each night. The _Things_ were getting chillingly close. It was apparent in the slashed trees, the colder-than-should-be nights, and the eerie silence that accompanied the rise of the moon.

Moomin drew his knees up to his chest. The water seemed colder. He couldn’t hear anything except for the roaring of the water, which thundered in his ears louder than before. He wished it truly was any other summer. He wished they were in Moominvalley, playing in the stream. He wished he could go home at the end of the day to a safe, warm house. He wished he wasn’t constantly scared. He wished for many things.

He wished Snufkin were there.

The thought came to Moomin unbidden and slammed into him like a comet. It knocked the air from his lungs and quieted the waterfall. His tiny claws dug into the fur of his arms.

It still hurt. It hurt _so much_. He missed Snufkin more than ever, no matter how he tried not to think of that beautiful vagabond when all was quiet and he was alone with his thoughts, especially on those nights he thought of home. Even if Snufkin hadn’t been a part of his life for some time now.

Where had he gone? Where was he while all of this is happening? The image of him alone in the woods at night, crouched by a dying fire as the shadows around him surged flashed through his mind. Moomin squeezed his eyes shut. He can’t think of that possibility. That very _real_ possibility. After all, these days travelling alone was a...well...it was risky. Very risky. If there was a slight chance Snufkin fell asleep on a bad night…

Moomin’s chest ached. His heart was on fire, and no amount of summer laughter and swimming could douse the flames. It hadn’t hurt like this in so long.

“Found you.”

Moomin scrubbed furiously at his eyes, then looked up. Little My was floating next to the ledge, watching him.

“L-Little My, what are you doing here?”

“We’re playing a game, aren’t we?”

“Oh. Right, right...yes..” Moomin gaze drifted back to the ripples lapping at the stone. He forced a smile. “Sorry - I’m supposed to be running for my life now, aren’t I?”

Little My rolled her eyes and lifted herself onto the ledge next to him. “You’re thinking about him.”

Moomin’s fake smile wiped itself from his snout. “Transparent as always, aren’t I?”

“Not really. Your eyes have that far-off ‘Snufkin’ look about them.” She lightly smacked his arm. “He’s fine, so stop worrying.”

Moomin whipped his head around to stare at her with accusing eyes. “How would you know that? You know how dangerous it is to be alone.”

“Moomintroll, always the pessimist,” Little My jeered. “For once in your life, stop overthinking everything. This is _Snufkin_ we’re talking about, for crying out loud. I doubt anything could kill him if they tried.”

Moomin snorted. “I don’t...maybe that’s why he never came back.”

This time Little My didn’t pull her punches. Literally.

“ _OW_!” Moomin cried. “What the hell was that for?!”

“You really think he didn’t come back because he, what, got offed by a living shadow? Bullshit.” Little My stood up to look Moomin in the eye. “He didn’t come back because he’s a candy-assed bitch who’s too afraid of his emotions to face them head on.”

“Little My!” Moomin gasped, thoroughly enraged and shocked she’d ever say such a thing.

She poked him once on the snout. “Shut up. Its true and you know it.”

“He’s not-”

“I know what happened between the two of you that last autumn.”

Moomin froze. His face somehow flushed and drained of color at the same time. “You what?” His voice was unbearably small.

“I may have read your diary, but that’s another conversation for later. Right now I’m trying to drill into your thick skull that Snufkin is a survivor. I bet he’s gone through much more than he’s told.”

Now Moomin truly was reeling. This was conversational whiplash!

“Remember that storm that nearly destroyed Moominhouse and flung one of the biggest trees in the valley across the fields?”

“O-of course, but Little My-”

“Snufkin was outside through the whole of it. You spent the entire storm fretting your arse off, and when it was finally safe to go outside what did you see?” she waited a moment, then rolled her eyes again. “Well?”

“He was fishing on the bridge like any other day."

"Exactly! He had one new stitch in his coat. One!”

“Yes, but-”

“Then there was that other time where you, like the idiot you are, nearly fell off of a cliff, and in the process of saving you Snufkin went over instead? And in the end all he had to show for it was a few scrapes and bruises.”

“Your point?”

Little My poked his snout again, this time more gently. “Dummy, I’m trying to tell you he’ll be alright through all of this. If he can survive floods, animal attacks, and falling off of a Groke-damned _cliff_ of all things, he can get through this. He can survive without us, just as we've been surviving without him.”

“Yes, well,” Moomin sighed, “I suppose you’re right.” He smiled. Genuinely. “Thank you, My.” He did feel much better. Where was his head, worrying over a seasoned vagabond like Snufkin?

“Pff, whatever,” Little My huffed, trying to hide a very obvious smile. “I just said it so that I wouldn’t have to deal with your wistful sighs.” She shoved his snout away as he giggled. “Let’s get back.” She jumped into the water and dove to swim back under the waterfall.

Moomin smiled to himself. It was just an old wound reopening, he told himself. Little My was right. He did miss him, but then again, it _was_ Snufkin, and he had missed him for a while. He may never stop, not completely. He shook his head. Everyone was fine, no matter where they were in the world. It gave Moomin some solace and eased the persistent ache, and for the first time in some time, Moomin found that the thought of Snufkin didn't hurt so much.

Although the flames would never completely go out, perhaps they could be lessened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2) Move on.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Moomin's momentary peace extends, and they meet someone on their journey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no see! With the new episodes being released, my good 'ol Moominvalley spark has returned!  
> This chapter may be a little long, and probably won't be the longest, but i'll try to keep them a reasonable length. And hopefully this streak of motivation will continue.  
> This chapter is on the more lighthearted side once again, but that WILL change next chapter, sorry not sorry.  
> ALSO!!! Some swearing in this chapter, mostly Little My, of course.  
> Enjoy!

“What about this one?” Moomin frowned at the pinecone Sniff held up.

“Pappa said they need to be drier than that.”

Sniff groaned at tossed it behind him, then resumed digging through pine needles. “I don’t get why we have to gather prickly tinder while Snorkmaiden and Little My get to sit around at camp relaxing.”

“It’s because we’re men,” Moomin said rather proudly, “and true men gather firewood for the ladies to be warm by.”

“What do you care about ladies?” Sniff tossed yet another pinecone away. “You’re not into girls.”

Moomin sputtered as his face turned hot under his fur. “I-I am too!” He turned a pinecone over in his paws, pricking the pads once or twice on the sharp edges, continuing his lost stammer. “I like both...either way, it’s the polite and chivalrous thing to do,” he finally settled on mumbling.

Although his back was turned, Moomin felt Sniff roll his eyes. “Psh, whatever. Hey, how about this one?” He held up a large pinecone.

A rush of relief washed away Moomin’s blush. “Perfect.” He gathered up his own little pile. “I think this’ll be enough.”

“Finally!” Sniff cheered, then rushed past his friend (who was struggling with his armload) with his own two pinecones. Moomin internally sighed. How typical of him to get flustered over something so matter-of-fact. He really had to stay on his guard - it was too easy to catch him off of it! Especially by such trivial questions, like the ones Sniff and Little My liked to ask. It was their only similarity, although Moomin wouldn’t say that to My, as she’d go and rip Sniff’s tongue out. Not that she’d ever threatened to, it was just very easy and in-character to imagine her doing so. Moomin glanced up at the sky and frowned. It was getting late, so much so that the sun had already dipped behind the trees. He quickened his pace, not caring when a pinecone or two fell out of his arms. They had enough. Pappa had been gathering actual firewood since they had chosen their campsite. This was just insurance and fire starters. All the same, he did not want to be campfire-less for much longer, as it was just about the time the distant howling would begin.

He entered the little clearing they had swept out to make camp for the night. They had gotten lucky enough to find movable logs to arrange around the firepit as seating (they didn’t often have that), and Snorkmaiden had found wild hollyleaf cherries right nearby, so they had a special treat for the evening. Sniff had unceremoniously dumped his pinecones in the firepit, much to the chagrin of Pappa, who was about to start laying the firewood. Snorkmaiden was helping Mama crush the cherries into some sort of mixture as Little My watched from Mama’s shoulder. Moomin - with a pointed glare at sniff - politely set his pile down next to the pit, and helped his father with clearing it.

“Why thank you, _Moomin_ ,” Pappa huffed, also glaring at Sniff. Sniff was too involved with the cherries to notice, much less care. Pappa shook his head and grumbled about common sense and good manners. For once, Moomin was inclined to agree. You see, Sniff wasn’t very helpful. If it wasn’t food or some way to gain money, he wasn’t interested. A deliberate way of setting up a fire? Who cares when there's food. Someone asks if he could help with washing dishes? Suddenly there's a very interesting rock in the forest. Time to eat some fresh carrots? They’ve already been eaten by a greedy little bastard. Little My’s words, not Moomin’s. Definitely not Moomin’s. That and he was the biggest whiner of the group, right behind Pappa and Snorkmaiden. It was a constant noise of _can we stop, my paws hurt_ or _i’m hungry, share your food_ and even _i don’t want to help, it’s got nothing to do with me_. And although Sniff was one of Moomin’s oldest friends, he was getting fed up with the taller fellow. Was he not used to this yet? It had already been over half a year since they started their travels - autumn was just around the corner. Then again, none of them were wholly used to it. After all, who could get used to constantly fleeing from a largely unknown terror? No one, and if one did, they were wholly out of their gourd.

Pappa sprinkled some pine needles onto the top of his firewood-and-pinecone stack (as garnish, he said), put a paw on his hip and tipped his hat up with the other, looking rather smug. He opened one eye to glance at them expectantly. When no one said a word, he cleared his throat.

“It looks very nice dear, it will surely keep us safe through the night,” Mama said, not having looked at the stack at all. The mixture she was making was turning a wonderful red. Snorkmaiden giggled behind her paw along with Moomin as Pappa preened over the same compliment he received every time he made the wood stack. While Pappa kneeled to light the fire with flint and steel, cursing under his breath at the damn things, Moomin leaned over the others to see exactly what it was they were making. He asked.

“Cherry bread,” Snorkmaiden said. “It’s going to be delicious - Moominmama added cinnamon to it!” Moomin’s tail swished in delight. It truly was a treat! Their limited flour, replenished once during their travels at an abandoned mill, was seldom used.

“Is there a special occasion for it?” Moomin asked.

Mama shook her head. “Nothing special. I thought it would be nice to have something better than the usual.”

“The usual being pine needles, roots, and snake eggs,” Little My said.

“We do _not_ talk about the snake eggs!” Snormaiden cried while Sniff gagged in the background. “That was your fault, anyway!” Little My simply shrugged one shoulder.

“I also thought it would go well with our main course,” Mama continued.

At those words, Sniff popped up, bouncing excitedly. “Which _I_ caught for us!” He bounded over to his pack, reached behind it, and pulled out two large fish. Snorkmaiden and Little My grinned and jumped up to rush him.

“Fish! Oh, I haven’t had fish in ages, simply ages!” Snorkmaiden gushed.

“Wow, for once you didn’t monumentally fuck something up,” Little My said (“language,” chided Mama). Sniff tried to look humble, which was something he very much wasn’t, so it just looked like he was literally fluffing himself up from the compliments. Moomin bristled. Of course. Of. Course. Sniff spends every day whining and doing the bare minimum while Moomin works his tail off to contribute, and then as soon as Sniff catches a fish or two he gets all of the praise. Moomin never got as much as a ‘good job’! He shoved down his delight at having fish for dinner to roll his eyes and scoff. Was there something Moomin wasn’t doing? Was there something he was supposed to be doing? He thought he had been helpful. Perhaps he had been, just not in a way that mattered. Collecting food and firewood wasn’t enough, he thought, he had to contribute something grander. It was all a matter of what…

-

“Oh, that was de- _licious_ ,” Pappa said, leaning back against his log and patting his belly. “I almost forgot what fish tasted like.”

“Same here,” Moomin agreed. Snorkmaiden nodded. “And don’t forget Mama’s delicious cherry bread.” All of them hummed at the memory of its sweet flavor.

“Oh hush,” Mama chuckled, “You helped, Snorkmaiden. It wouldn’t have been the same without you.” Snorkmaiden had the good grace to blush. They sat in comfortable silence as the light in the sky disappeared, and no one moved to stand guard. It wasn’t going to be one of those silent, tense nights where everyone barely slept. It would be quite relaxed, in fact.

“Say…” Little My said slowly, which was never a good thing, “...you don’t have a fishing rod, do you, Sniff?”

Sniff tilted his head. “No. Why?”

“If you don’t have a fishing rod, then how the hell did you manage to catch two very large fish?” Silence ensued. Five heads swiveled to train their eyes on Sniff, who seemed very nervous all of a sudden. Little My grinned sharkishly. “Out with it then.”

“I, uh, um, I caught them with my bare paws,” Sniff stuttered, his words growing stronger at the end.

“Oh really?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah!” He stood up to theatrically gesture his actions as he spoke. “I came to the river, and deep within I saw those two gleaming creatures! I thought to myself, ‘wouldn’t everyone love a good fish dinner’? The answer, of course, was yes. So I waded out there -” Moomin was growing less and less impressed “-into the cold fast water and wrestled the two of them out for the five of you!” He put his paws on his hips and looked smug. Another beat of silence. A giggle escaped Snorkmaiden, triggering the rest of them to break out into roaring laughter. Even Mama was laughing behind her paw. Sniff went bright red. “What?! Why are you laughing?!”

“That’s such _bullshit_ ,” Little My howled.

“Language, My,” Mama said, but her words were softened by her giggles, and she was much too amused to be mad.

 _I knew it!_ Moomin thought to himself as he fell off of the log onto Little My, who was laughing too hard to bite him. _I knew there was something fishy - haha - about this!_ He knew Sniff would never go out of his way to obtain something for someone else, especially not to that length!

Sniff plunked down on a log, folded his arms, and glared at the ground, flush with embarrassment and anger. “It’s true…”

“I’m sorry, Sniff,” Snorkmaiden said, winding down, “It’s just that that’s entirely out of character for you.”

Little My wriggled out from under Moomin. “So where did you really get them? And don’t lie, we know you too well.” Sniff muttered something. Little My stepped closer and cupped a hand around her ear. “Come again?”

“I found them hung from a branch!” Sniff blurted. “They were just hanging there, freshly caught…” He hid his face in his paws, now burning with shame.

Little My shook her head. “Tsk tsk, and to think I praised you for it.”

“That wasn’t praise,” Sniff moaned.

“It was, coming from her,” Moomin snickered.

Mama sighed, amusement gone. “I’m very ashamed of you, Sniff. Stealing from others, even if it gives us a good meal, it takes away their’s.”

Sniff’s ears drooped more and his tail curled around his feet. “Sorry…”

“It’s alright, dear, we’ll just have to find them tomorrow so that you can apologize.”

“So then there’s someone else nearby,” Pappa murmured. “It's a wonder we haven't seen them yet.”

“Some folk prefer to be alone.”

Moomin’s ear twitched.

Pappa shrugged. “Yes, well, it’s a little disconcerting, isn’t it? Those fish were the only sign of them.”

“Their camp is probably farther away,” Moomin added helpfully. He hoped it was helpful, anyway.

“I’m sure we’ll run into them tomorrow,” Mama said. She dusted off her apron and collected the dishes to wash in the river water she had collected earlier. “Pappa, why don’t you tell us a story?”

Pappa sat up straighter and his eyes gleamed, clearly he was ready to embellish yet another story from his past. The youngsters perked up - they always enjoyed his fanciful tales - and took their seats to stare at him expectantly. He preened at this, and began with, “Have I yet told the story of when The Muddler was kidnapped by a very angry bunch of fae folk after stealing their buttons? Well…”

The story lasted well into the night until the moon was high overhead and the stars dusted the heavens like glitter. Night creatures chirped and hooted, creating a peaceful ambiance. Of course, as most of Moominpappa’s stories, it ended with laughter. Apparently The Muddler hadn’t learned his lesson, and had gone back to re-steal the buttons right after being rescued. He had, apparently, leapt back onto the Oshun Oxtra and took over the controls to hurl them out of range of the fae folk. Pappa finished by saying that they were hours away when they realized they had left The Joxter napping on the shore. Moomin chuckled again, now snuggled into his blankets. No one was right next to him, as it was a safe night, and they all felt secure enough to have their own bubble. What a silly story, he thought. It clearly wasn’t true, but it was nice to pretend, and Pappa’s stories were too entertaining to question. He wondered if he’d ever get to meet The Muddler, or Hodgkins, or The Joxter, or any other wacky characters Pappa spoke of. He knew the characters to be real people. Probably. They all sounded so colorful and unique, like Muddler with his buttons, or Hodgkins and his obsession with building a flying boat, or The Joxter with...well...just The Joxter in general. With all the travelling they were doing, it was likely, perhaps even probable. This led Moomin to wonder if they were going to meet their mysterious maybe-neighbor the next day. Whoever they were, they were probably furious that Sniff stole their dinner. Moomintroll sat up, suddenly overcome with worry. What if they weren’t a nice person? What if they were so mad that they would hurt one of them?! Moomin then grew angry. His ears flicked back and his tail lashed as he thought more on it. Someone daring to try to hurt his friends and family? Not on his watch. His eye caught Pappa’s gun, which glinted in his lap as the older Moomin passively watched the woods, one ear flicking whenever a bug got too close. It clicked. What Moomin needed to be truly helpful was a weapon. He needed something to protect them all with, so that he wouldn’t be a helpless bystander. Yes. It shouldn’t all fall on his parents to make sure they were safe. Moomin could fight - he had gotten into a few scraps in his day, and it wasn’t like he was a weak child anymore. No, he was growing into a fine young Moomin, and it was time to take up some responsibility and act like it. He already knew how to shoot a gun...maybe he would ask if they could find him one. Then he could give his parents a full night’s rest while he stood guard and protected them from the shadows. There, his resolve was set. He would be a mighty protector, their hero. He remembered what Snorkmaiden would call him, back when they were 'dating' - _her knight in shining armor_. He gazed at the sliver of moon far above, impossibly far away. He’d be their knight in shining armor.

-

The next morning brought sunlight and a lazy breakfast. The sun wasn’t even above the treetops when they stirred, but already birds were singing their hearts out. What did birds sing about? Trees, flowers, the sky, and seeds most likely. That begged the question of whether they were singing about something at all. Perhaps it was just in their nature to sit outside and scream meaninglessly for hours. Sometimes Moomin envied them for being able to do so freely. He often wished he was a bird these days. Especially in his current situation, where he was stuck between Little My and Sniff, who had been bickering for the past hour or so. Mama had sent the three of them off to find a certain herb she had ran out of. Unfortunately, this herb was near the peak of a very tall mountain, one with dusty ground and rocks and absolutely zero ground cover from the scorching sun. If Mama had sent him with just one of them, whichever one, it would have been bearable. But now, here he was, trudging up a mountain with two insufferable friends of his. Even his adept skill of tuning them out was failing, and yet again he wished to be a bird. Currently they were arguing about how much a gallon of ink would cost in a local market. Moomin didn’t care enough to join in or really register the specific words. All that he knew was that the constant snipping and whining was grating on his ears, and that the cliff was starting to look very inviting.

Finally, Moomin stopped walking and groaned. “Will you two stop already?” He pleaded. “If you don’t one of the three of us is going over the cliff and it most likely won’t be me.” They gaped at him for a second. How very unlike him to threaten his friend’s lives like that...he truly was infuriated. “You two have been chattering like monkeys over the last walnut!” Now he was on a roll, and he could not stop. “Who cares how much ink costs in a local market?! Who cares that Sniff deprived some poor innocent person of their meal?! Not me, that’s for fucking sure!” They took a step back. Moomin’s tail was lashing back and forth and his ears were pinned to his skull, and he was fairly certain he hadn’t glared that hard in years.

Sniff eked out, “If anyone is going over the cliff, can it be Little My?” Moomin slapped a paw to his forehead and groaned at the sky. At the same moment, Little My lunged at Sniff to sink her teeth into his leg, Sniff shrieked, and in one swift motion, kicked Little My right over the cliff. Sniff whipped around to stare at Moomin, horrified. Moomin’s expression was much the same. The only sound was a rock tumbling down back the way they came.

“I DIDN’T MEAN IT LITERALLY!” Moomin cried, and rushed forward to the edge. He threw himself to his knees to stare over, sending a cascade of dust and pebbles showering down on Little My, who was standing on a very narrow ledge. “Little My!”

“Watch it, you idiot,” she snapped. Her head tilted to glare up at them, and for another moment Moomintroll considered leaving her there due to the sheer amount of seething rage that burned in her eyes. “If you don’t get me out right this instant, I swear I will-” The next thing she said was so horrible that it is wholly impossible to put into words, for it was so incredibly graphic that no one should be subjected to it. Sniff whimpered next to Moomin, who was now strongly considering leaving her there. Had his mouth always been so dry?

“Alright, Sniff, lean down so that she can grab your paw.”

“Me?! Why me?! You do it!”

“I can’t do it, I'm too round,” Moomin said, “and I have short arms. I’d roll right over.”

Sniff grumbled to himself. “Fine,” he sighed. He peered down at My. “Promise not to rip my head off?”

“...For the moment.” He lied down on his stomach and awkwardly wriggled forward until his upper half was leaning over open air. Moomin grabbed onto him to add extra support so that he could slide a little further. Sniff stretched his arms out as far as they would go, which was, unfortunately, still not as long of a reach as his snout. Little My didn’t try to reach for him.

“You’re too high, idiot!” she snapped. “Find a stick or something!”

“There aren’t any sticks around,” Moomin said, as he pulled Sniff back up, “there’s just rocks!”

“Maybe I can lower you by the tail and…” Sniff trailed off as the sun disappeared off of their backs. Moomin froze, as did My, who’s angry expression melted into one of fear. Oh no. Ohhhh no. What was it? He and Sniff slowly turned their heads, then looked up at the shadow standing over them. It was a tall being with a face shaded by a straw hat. They looked down, eyes glinting. Moomin gulped.

She kneeled down and murmured, “Pardon”, causing both boys to scramble out of her way, then leaned over the edge and offered a paw to Little My. She hesitated, but hooked both paws over the stranger’s one. The stranger easily lifted her out, stood to get her out the rest of the way, then placed My on one of her arms. Her other rested behind My as support. The stranger smiled. “Hullo,” she greeted warmly.

Little My was astounded. “Hello,” she replied plainly. She was then gently set down, and she stepped back to join her friends, who were staring in a mix of fear and curiosity.

“Ye must be careful in this area. The rocks can be slippier than an oiled beetle,” The stranger said in a lilting tone. She seemed friendly enough, Moomin supposed. “I don’t believe I’ve seen ye in these hills before. New?”

“Enough,” Moomin said. “We’re..uh...just passing through. You live here?”

“For now. Oh, where are my manners - the name’s Samarit.” She tipped her straw hat. Moomin relaxed more. This was indeed a very friendly person with no ill intent. Probably. One couldn't be too careful.

“I’m Moomintroll,” he said, “and these are my friends, Sniff and Little My.” Sniff shyly waved and My nodded sharply. “Thank you for saving Little My.”

“‘Course. Always happy to help, as a dolphin would say.” Uh...okay, that was a little odd, but alright. Moomin flicked an ear, not sure of what to say next. “Though it might be a good idea to stay away from cliffs from now on. What brought you young folk all the way up here?”

“We’re looking for an herb that only grows on mountain peaks,” Little My answered. “It's small and orange - what’s it called?”

“Amber Berry.” Samarit smiled warmly. “Oh, well I have some extra at my campsite, if ye’d like. The peak is still quite a ways.”

Moomin couldn’t help smiling at the offer. “We’d love that, thank you.” There was no way he was passing up an opportunity to not climb a mountain with two (sometimes) unbearable friends.

Samarit returned the gesture. “Follow me, then. We’ll be there in two hops of a lizard’s tongue.” They followed her back the way they came, and thankfully Sniff and Little My stayed quiet. Moomin didn’t think he’d be able to handle the mortification of them fighting in front of their ‘neighbor’. Actually, none of them said a peep all the way down, thank the groke. They were content to walk silently, although Little My climbed Samarit to perch on her shoulder while Sniff lagged behind, fiddling nervously with his paws and shooting glances at their guide. Moomin didn’t get how he was so nervous. After all, Samarit was clearly very friendly, and Little My choosing her as her perch was a clear signal of that. Still, a hint of suspicion niggled at the back of his mind. Was Samarit really as kind as she appeared? Would she still be as kind when she finds out Sniff stole her fish - _Sniff stole her fish_. Moomin’s eyes shot to Sniff’s. The look they shared confirmed they were thinking the same thing: this was the person who’s dinner they ate, and she was giving them herbs out of the goodness of her heart. Oooooh no. This could end badly. If they were lucky, she’d huff and probably ask them to leave the area, or leave the area herself. If they were unlucky, she’d try and maybe succeed at killing them. Over...fish….okay her reaction wouldn’t be that bad, but Moomin was certain it’d be close.

He slowed his steps until he walked with Sniff. “She’s the one you took the fish from, yeah?” he whispered.

Sniff’s nose twitched. “I think so...oh, _Moomintroll_ , what do we say?”

“ _We_ don’t say anything. You, however, need to tell her soon.”

“What if she gets angry?”

Moomin heaved a sigh. “The longer you wait, the worse it’ll get.” His friend uttered a pathetic squeak. Moomin rolled his eyes and regained his steps.

Little My and Samarit had taken to chatting. “-relieves stress,” Samarit was saying. “I do it a lot in my spare time.”

“It does? Truly?”

“As sure as a junebug in August.”

“What works?” Moomin asked.

Little My shot him a nasty glare. “Nothing,” she snapped, jumped down from her new friend’s shoulder onto the ground, and trotted ahead.

“Curious thing, isn’t she?” Samarit murmured.

“Quite,” Moomin said in a deadpan. It wasn’t much use to inquire what they were talking about, so he just rolled his eyes again and let it be. He tilted his snout up to the sparse tree branches above them and closed his eyes for a moment. The cool, dappled shade brushed his fur, offering relief from the constant sun, and the dirt crunched pleasantly under his feet. A bird sang nearby.

“Here we are.”

Moomin opened his eyes. He hadn’t even realized they had gotten so far from the mountainside. From the feel of things, they were back in the tiny valley that they had set up camp in. He tilted his head at the layout before them. A large pile of lumber lay at the end of the clearing, all logs neatly stacked. It looked like Samarit was building a cabin, if the floor layout was anything to go by. A door rested against the structure’s one wall. In the main part of the clearing was a circular stone firepit with a mat rolled out next to it, along with a large pack, and a finely crafted chair.

Promptly Little My climbed onto said chair, settled herself, and patted the wood. “Did you make this?”

Samarit plucked a leaf out of My’s hair as she passed. “Yes, I built everythin’ here with my own paw and my trusty knife.” My hummed approvingly. “I have the herbs right here, if ye’d give me a moment.”

“‘Course,” Moomin said.

“It’s a shame,” Samarit said as she dug through her pack, “last evenin’ a creep stole my dinner. Two whole fish - big ones, too. Be sure to watch your food.” Moomin and Little My slowly swiveled their heads to glare pointedly at Sniff. He flinched and cast his eyes to the ground, pulling at his fingers. “Ah, here we are.” Samarit pulled out a handful of bright gold leaves, each one a perfect teardrop with an orange berry right at the base. She handed them to Moomin, and when he took them, he noticed how they felt as solid as crystal. They were just as heavy.

“Amazing, thank you so much,” he breathed, staring at them in marvel. The leaves glittered as the light hit them.

Samarit winked. “Pretty things, aren’t they?”

“Yes-”

“I stole your fish!” Sniff suddenly cried.

Samarit straightened and blinked at him. “Beg your pardon?”

“A creep didn’t steal your fish, I did,” he repeated, refusing to look her in the eye and twisting his tail in both paws. Samarit exhaled slowly and lumbered over to him. He stared up at her with fearful eyes, and Moomin clutched the leaves tighter, wondering if he would have to fight someone today. In his peripherals, My stood as well.

Samarit stopped directly in front of Sniff, and when she lifted a paw, he flinched, but it came down gently on his shoulder. She kneeled and tipped her hat up to look him in the eye. “That’s alright, lad. Ye must have been hungry, yes?”

Sniff stared at her for a moment. Then he sniffled once, twice, and tears rolled down his furred cheeks. “I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he blubbered. “They looked s-so good, i c-couldn’t st-stop myself.”

“Hush hush, I already said it was alright, yes?” Samarit tsked as she drew him into a hug. She had to pry his claws out of the fabric of her shawl several moments later, when he had calmed down. “Tell ye what, I could catch some more fish for dinner tonight, if ye’d like to stay the night.”

“We’d love to-” Moomin started to say, but was quickly cut off by My.

“We actually have a few others at our camp we need to get back to,” she said, hopping down from the chair.

“Oh! That’s _right_ , silly me.”

“Who’s at yer camp?” Samarit asked.

Moomin waved the herbs absentmindedly. “My parents and our friend, Snorkmaiden. They’re expecting us back soon, I reckon.”

“Then I won’t keep ye.” She held her paw out to Moomin. “A pleasure meetin’ ye.”

“Why don’t you come by, later?” Little My offered. “You could stay the night - we’ll cook you dinner.” Moomin couldn’t help a smile. He had never heard My offer anything to anyone, especially staying as a guest or cooking someone dinner. She saw how he was practically beaming at her, scoffed, crossed her arms, and looked away.

“I’d love to,” Samarit genuinely said. “I’ll be there this evenin’.”

“Perfect,” Moomin said. He grabbed Sniff’s arm to drag him away and waved. “Tonight, then!”

-

Moominmama, Pappa, and Snorkmaiden were thrilled to hear they were having a guest. So much so that the entire camp was in a hustle to tidy and gather food for dinner. Mama gave each of them a duty to perform to keep them busy and working. Even Sniff was eager to help. It had taken some convincing for Mama to agree to make the cherry bread again, but she caved and sent Snorkmaiden to gather more cherries. Moomin was arranging their woodpile in much the same way as Samarit’s when his mother came over.

“Is she aware of the fish situation?”

Moomin nodded. “Sniff caved and told her.”

“Good.” She left, and when Moomin glanced over his shoulder, she was hugging Sniff. Moomin smiled to himself.

Samarit arrived a few hours later, when the sky turned brilliant colors and the shadows hung off the trees like pitch carpets. Everything was bathed in golden light, from the tallest pine needles to the smallest pebble. She emerged from the woods with a stick over her shoulder.

“Samarit!” Moomin said, “You came!”

“As promised, young Moomin.” She approached Mama, who smoothed out her apron and tightened the bow.

“You must be Samarit,” Mama said.

“And you must be Moominmama,” Samarit replied. She took Mama’s paw in her own and kissed it. “A pleasure.”

Mama chuckled behind her paw. “Indeed.”

Pappa swooped in next to introduce himself with far more grandeur than necessary, including a full introduction and hearty handshake. Thankfully Snorkmaiden was much more subdued in her greeting. A simple smile and swapping introductions sufficed. It turned out there were seven fish tied to the stick Samarit was carrying, much to everyone’s joy and embarrassment, which prompted another round of apologies, all of which Samarit brushed off with a laugh and a smile. She was even jollier than before, probably because of the company. She helped Moominmama with cooking dinner, even though Mama insisted that she shouldn’t, as the kind neighbor was their guest, but Samarit insisted. Little My and Snorkmaiden joined in to help even though there wasn’t much to do other than what Mama and Samarit were already taking care of. Moomin suspected they just wanted to talk to Samarit, which he fully understood.

“Fancy that,” Papa muttered as he struggled to start the fire, “we found a friend that lives not three miles away.”

“It’s quite miraculous,” Moomin agreed.

“It makes one wonder who else might be nearby...or who else we might have passed without knowing.”

Moomin frowned. Were there others? Lonely travelers, struggling to survive on their own - not that Samarit was struggling, she actually seemed to be thriving - that they could have helped. The thought made Moomin’s tail twitch in agitation. The fire burst to life. Papa put the rocks down and nodded proudly. Moomin helped his father clean the fish and put them over the fire on the collapsable grill they had. Fish two nights in a row...things were looking up. And, based on the large amount of nightlife (bats flitting overhead, crickets chirping, things scurrying in the dark), it was going to be another restful night. The girls laughed at something Little My said. They seemed to be having fun. Moomin took a deep breath. There was no use worrying about people that may or may not have existed when there were people to care about right here. That being said, Sniff was sitting off to the side, looking awkward.

Moomin sat beside him. “Going to be a nice night.”

“Yeah.”

“Samarit is nice.”

“Yep.”

“...Are you okay?”

Sniff hesitated for a long minute. “It’s weird, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“Someone else being here.”

Moomin watched the group. Samarit was showing Snorkmaiden how to cut up herbs in a more efficient way. Snorkamiden seemed quite flustered, while Mama watched them out of the corner of her eye, smiling. Little My wasn’t paying attention. She found a cool bug. “I suppose,” Moomin agreed. “Is that really all that’s got you worked up?”

Sniff shot him a glare. “I’m not ‘worked up’. It’s just been a while since we’ve had a guest. Or met anyone outside of our group.”

Now that he thought about it, Moomin realized that it had been months since they’d talked to another soul, much less seen one. It was unlikely, some would even go as far as to say impossible, that they hadn’t ran into anyone else. He had never seen so much as an old campsite. It begged the question if it was the Things that drove everyone out, either by fear or by...other means.

“I’m sure we’ll get used to it,” Moomin said, desperately trying to drive out the dark thoughts from his mind. Today was supposed to be one of happiness, not existentialism. That could wait for a day or two. He finally dragged Sniff into the group and forced him to socialize. Samarit greeted him warmly, as she did with everyone, and easily added him into the conversation. They talked long into the night after their delicious dinner. Samarit really enjoyed the cherry bread, as Moomin thought she would. Most of their words were spent on mindless chatter - their journey, funny stories, lighthearted things like that. Laughter joined the crickets for hours, until the coals burned low enough that Pappa had to throw new wood on the fire. Things quieted as a more solemn tone fell over them like a blanket, and Little My finally asked the question the rest of them wouldn’t.

“What were you doing before the Things came?”

Samarit tilted her head. “The Things?”

“Yeah, the deadly creatures that only appear at night.”

“Oh.” Samarit removed her hat and scratched her antlers, staring at the flames. “You mean the Varjo.”

“The Varjo?” Snorkmaiden echoed.

Samarit picked up a stick to poke at the fire. A log shifted, sending a burst of sparks into the air. “At first we thought they were new to our land, creatures like us from across the sea. They crawled from the ocean at night to drag forest creeps back into the water. We thought they were huntin’, we thought we could communicate.” Her eyes darkened. “We soon discovered ourselves to be wrong.”

“What happened?” asked Sniff, his voice barely audible.

“The lighthouse was the first to go. It was Sunday, the one day it had off, and so the light was darker than a midnight fish. When the mornin’ came, everything inside was torn apart. Including the lightkeeper and her daughter.” Snorkmaiden reached out and grabbed Moomin’s paw and squeezed it. He returned the gesture. The lightheartedness of before had completely dissipated. Samarit sighed. “The only sign of the culprits were giant claw marks and grooves in the sand leading back to the water. The situation escalated, but it wasn’t until we lost five more homes to the Varjo that we learned they wouldn’t come near light. After that every buildin’ kept its lights on all night.” She leaned back and tilted her snout to the sky, taking a moment to breathe.

“It’s alright, dear, take your time,” Mama murmured.

Samarit nodded gratefully, then continued. “Eventually, they disappeared entirely. It was even safe to stargaze on the beach without so much as a match. The town leader, Dael, gave his permission to turn the lights off again at night.” She poked at the wood more aggressively. “I told them it was as good of an idea as porcupine quills on a cheese wheel. They laughed. They told me I was being paranoid. When I went to sleep, I was the only one to keep the lights on.” She leaned over with her elbows on her knees and closed her eyes. “I was also the only one to wake up.”

A chill washed over the group. Ice crept up Moomin’s spine, and he leaned into Snorkmaiden as she gripped his paw tighter and buried her snout in his shoulder.

“That’s terrible,” Pappa said in hushed tones. “I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

“That’s life.”

“I’m pretty sure losing your entire town to shadow monsters doesn’t qualify as life,” Little My said. Moominmama shot her a stern glare, but My just shrugged.

“I suppose not,” Samarit chuckled. They sat in silence for a moment before she continued. “Since then I’ve been making my way north. This valley, if ye could call it that, is perfect. It’s out of the way, like crows in the earth. I plan on stayin’ here.”

“It _is_ lovely,” Mama agreed. “Is that why you’re building a cabin?” Sniff asked. Samarit nodded.

“Well, I hope you find a good home here,” Mama said.

“Thank you.” Samarit rose from her seat and stretched. “It’s getting darker than a bat’s tail. Thank ye for the delicious meal and equally delightful company, but I must be gettin’ back.” She didn’t get two steps before everyone sprung up at the same time with a joint cry of NO! Samarit jumped around, a paw over her heart. “By the groke’s laugh - what’s gotten into ye folks?!”

“You can’t go out there!” Pappa cried. “It’s too dangerous.”

Samarit blankly blinked at them, then chuckled. “There are no Varjo here. It’s why I chose this particular valley.”

“Really? Oh…”

Moomin gnawed on his lower lip. The valley may be free of the Things - the Varjo - now, but not for long. “Actually…” he muttered.

“What is it, lad?” Samarit said.

“There’s a pack of them hunting us.” Silence stretched for several tense seconds.

Slowly, Samarit flicked one large ear. “...Interesting.” She scanned each of their fearful, guilty faces before sighing. “Very well. I suppose I can stay until the mornin’.” They let out a collective sigh of relief. Moomin silently thanked her and apologised. After all, now it was their fault that her valley wasn’t as safe as it once was. Even though they had had a few weeks of little to no Varjo activity it was still a dangerous gamble. Mama set Samarit up with their most comfortable blanket and offered her the spot closest to the fire, but, like the humble person she was, Samarit politely declined the offer. She chose to lay her blanket down next to Snorkmaiden, who’s tail swished under the blanket, no matter how much she pretended not to notice. Moomin snorted inwardly, amused. As the night drew on, mostly everyone fell asleep. For some reason Moomin found it difficult to fully drift off, so he remained in a light doze for a while longer. Pappa was sitting on a log, polishing his gun, ears twitching at every odd sound in the dark, as per the usual. The hushed tones of Snorkmaiden and Samarit conversing added a soothing, almost domestic tone to the night.

Moomin finally fell asleep to their soft chuckles, sated by a hearty meal and the presence of friends.


End file.
